According to Plan
by Evilfuzz
Summary: Short Story: Alternative Ending to "Darkest" Things go according to plan, just not Dick's plan. warning Evil Aqualad, slight noncon. [possible continuation upon reviewer requests]


This story is based on a Request image I drew for a fan on deviantart.

For all those who know me on deviantart, yes it is the same Evilfuzz. I finally got an account on this place, might as well I'm on here enough.

I have gotten a few requests to add another chapter to this one and depending on the feedback I receive on here I will make another chapter. In short, want more, review!

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Statistically he knew that one day this would happen; a day when he was no longer able to discern what was the truth and what was a lie, that he would be caught, tangled in his own web of deceit; it was just a matter of time. He had planned everything so perfectly, so convincingly that everyone had accepted the farce as truth; was it still true now? Where his friends still his friends?

He tried to think strategically; Artemis was now under the authority of Deathstroke. She had to act convincingly… she couldn't go easy on them anymore, just like Kaldur he knew that they would have to fight each other, but to invade the watchtower… to hurt the kids? That wasn't Artemis, she would have found another way; she could have just knocked them out! He bit back a growl as the image of Tigress twisting Tim's arm back as she drove her hand into the back of his elbow; the sound of his screams still echoed through his head and he fought down the sob that threatened to bubble out of him.

He gave a savage jerk at the metal cuffs gnawing into this wrists as fresh anger surged through him, as consequence the escape mechanism in his restrains flared to life sending a series of numbing shocks down his extended arms. He gritted his teeth biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. When the shocks finally subdued he felt weak, numb, and unable to even twitch the fingers on his captured hands as the blood pooling in his mouth from puncturing the skin seeped down and out the corner of his mouth. Beaten, exhausted and resigned he allowed his legs to buckle not caring as his arms groaned with the weight of suspending his body. What was with these people and shock torture?

He took several deep-calming breaths. Now was not the time for feeling sorry for himself, he had to get out of here. He was being kept alive for a reason and it didn't take a genius to figure out why; sooner or later they would be back to try and make him talk and then shock torture would be the least of his problems. If only he had his tools!

Groaning he concentrated on shifting his feet back under his body to take the weight off of his now blazing wrists. It took a few tries as he fought through the numbness of the shocks after effects but he finally managed. Now that he was on his own two feet again he turned his attentions upward to the restraints on his wrists.

His arms where stretched high above trapped in metal cuffs with glowing blue inlays… most likely what caused the shocking when he attempted any sudden movements. The cuffs where welded together with a six inch chain secured to a large close-clasped hook hanging down from the rafters of the inside of one of Black Mantas underwater ships. Normally in situations like this he would just use his upper body strength to pull his lower body upward to wrap around the suspending chain until he able to shimmy up far enough to slip his cuffs out of the hooks, unfortunately that wasn't an option this time around.

He shifted his gaze to his feet once more studying the cuffs locked snuggly around his ankles. These cuffs where slightly thicker and the chain binding the two together longer, approximately two feet long, and run through a thick metal loop welded to the floor. He could move his legs somewhat but the chain prevented him from raising any one leg higher than a foot or so off the ground, these too where inlayed with the same blue shock mechanism.

He groaned in frustration as he ran over several other possibilities in his mind only to discover he had little to no options left. His belt, shoes, and gloves where all gone, most of his Nightwing uniform was shredded when they had torn through the seams looking for hidden tools or items. He couldn't haul himself up and over the hook holding him to the ceiling and waiting for help would take to long if it came at all. There was only one thing he could do and it was going to hurt.

He took a quick stock of the room he was in. There was nothing to it really. There were no windows, no beds or barrels or displayed means of torture, no guards, nothing, just a blank metal box with steal welded beams and creaking walls. The only thing that had any life or color was the small red dot glowing faintly above the sealed door.

A camera. Naturally they were watching him, but who was they? Was it Black Manta or Deathstroke; or maybe it was Kaldur and Artemis. Then the thought struck him… he wasn't sure which of the two possibilities was worse anymore.

There was no way for him to take out the camera from across the room, he would just have to pray that he could finish getting himself loose before they saw what he was up to and sent someone to stop him… but even if that worked then what? He was on, more or less, a submarine; he had no way to knowing where he was, how far underwater, where could he run? Chances are they were deep enough underwater that if he left the ship the pressure would crush him, and even if it didn't he would drown before he got to the surface. He couldn't hide on the ship either, they would eventually find him; no there had to be escape pods someone where, surely not everyone was an Atlantian like Kaldur or had a watertight suit like black Manta. It was a long shot… a desperate attempt of a wildly unrealistic person but it's not like he hadn't done something like this before… right?

With a sort of grim acceptance he turned his attention back up to his hands as he struggled to renew the feeling back into his unresponsive fingers. He brought his wrists as close together as he could as he tried to grasp the thumb on his left hand. It was proving a much more difficult process than he thought; the metal cuffs where thick which made it difficult to get his fingers close enough to each other in the first place, and even when he managed to hook his fingers around the limp digit his fingers where still far to uncoordinated to apply enough pressure to break his thumb. He hissed in irritation as his fingers slipped and he lost his grip on his left hand for the third time. He had to break that thumb and do it fast! It was the only way he would be able to slip his wrist through the cuff and detach himself from the damned ceiling. Once again he reached for his left before the squealing of the metal door brought his fruitless efforts to a halt.

It was too late, they where back.

Tensing he abandoned his efforts and concentrated on the figure stepping through the doorway; if they thought he was going to tell them anything they were very, very wrong.

He had to squint as the light from the hallway flooded his dim cell momentarily blinding him as the figure stepped through before closing the thick metal floor with a hard "clank". Desperately he blinked several times trying to clear the spots from his eyes only to discover his tormentor had yet to move out of the shadow of the entryway. Stiffing he glared at what would no doubt by his tormentor for the next... well torture generally didn't have a time limit he had come to discover.

"Nightwing."

He froze a million different thoughts running through his head before one finally pushed his way to the forefront. Friend or foe?

"Kaldur." he responded back his voice blank of any emotion.

There was no way of telling if Kaldur was still on his side, either way he couldn't give away anything now just in case someone was watching on the other end of that camera. He would just have to wait for a signal, a sign, an expression, anything Kaldur might give him to reassure him that he wasn't really one of them now, that he was still his friend; one he desperately needed right now.

Kaldur stepped forward; he wasn't in his usual attire of black metal but something much simpler consisting of a black tank top and sweatpants. If he wasn't in this situation he would have thought he had caught the Atlantian on the way to the gym, but he was and the change of appearance for whatever reason did nothing to ease his nerves.

He watched as Kaldur moved closer, moving at a painfully slow pace as his former leader swept his eyes up and down his figure before stopping a few feet out of his vastly limited reach. Everything about the way his friend was acting was off, his actions… his body language was so withdrawn, no not withdrawn… controlled?

When Kaldur's eyes finally journeyed up to his face he almost gasped at the look in his eyes. Unconsciously the glare that he had leveled at the Atlantian slipped off to be replaced with confusion. Kaldur's eyes bore into him, not with hatred, confliction, or regret but something else, something he couldn't place. He had always been able to read the Atlantian before and all of a sudden not being able to tell what he was thinking scared him.

"I see Tigress gave you quite the beating," Kaldur said as he lifted his hand reaching forward to trace the purpling bruise sprouting on the side of Nightwing's face.

Shocked at the gentleness of the action he allowed for a moment Kaldurs hand to ghost across the tender area before his common sense returned and he flinched away violently causing his restraints to once again activate. He wasn't prepared for it this time and couldn't stop the small whimper that squeezed through his clenched teeth as volts of electricity shot through him.

Maybe it was just the trapped tears welling up under his mask but for a second he thought he saw concern flit across Kaldur's face, but just like the shocks the emotion was swept away and he was left once again, panting and hanging limply from the ceiling.

"I wouldn't make any sudden movements if I were you; the shocks aren't enough to kill you, no matter how hard to struggle… but you will burn your wrists and ankles rather badly if you keep this up." Kaldur said a warning clear in his voice.

Almost affectionately Kaldur brushed the ebony locks from his face staring at the panting pained hero before him before letting his hand trail down to the now destroyed tatters of his uniform. He took apiece here and apiece there running the fabric between his thumb and forefingers before his hand jolted forward grabbing the largest remaining section and giving what's left of the blue hawk symbol a savage jerk.

The sound of ripping Kevlar was drowned out by the sound of his screams as both restraints flared to life as his body was jerked forward. Every cell in his body felt like it was on fire as the electricity rocked up and down his body. By the time it was over he was barely conscious, his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton and he couldn't focus.

Damn him, Kaldur was suppose to be his friend, Artemis too, why were they doing this? This wasn't an act; they weren't his friends anymore. They were part of the Light now. He couldn't stop the sob that escaped him. It had been his idea to send them in undercover, they were good people before then… he should have never allowed this… maybe this was what he deserved.

"My apologies, it was the quickest way to remove those rags," Kaldur soothed as he placed his hand on Nightwing's rapidly rising and falling chest.

He only caught fragments of what was being said; he closed his eyes as the feeling began slowly returning to his extremities with a tingling throb, it was only then that he registered how cold he was and he shivered as cold sweat dripped from his face. He took a shuttering breath before a new sensation assaulted him, it was pleasant and warm and all he wanted right now was more and he arched forward wanting to get closer to whatever this was. Without thinking he let a small groan escape him before something in his head began flashing. This was wrong, where was he? What… Kaldur!

His eyes snapped open and he tried to clear his persistently blurry vision. Kaldur was bent down in front of his chest running his hands up and down his back, along his abs, across his collarbones, those big warm hands tracing the many pink and white scars splattered across his torso. That alone would have frightened him but what shocked him worse than the restraints was the fact that Kaldur had latched onto his left nipple his tongue dancing over and under and around the swelling nub before his mouth descended sucking slowly.

The sight would have made him flush if his face wasn't already a rosy red from the arousing sensations slowly creeping down his body.

"NO!" he cried as he attempted to back away from the sinful touches. "Stop this!" His efforts where cut short as Kaldur's hand shot out wrapping his thick arm around his waist keeping his naked chest firmly pressed against the Atlantian.

He was trapped, there was no way to free himself, no way to get Kaldur away from him but he tired anyway, squirming uselessly against the arm latched around him all the while his body was awakening, responding to the unwanted caresses. He let out a growl sending a glare that would have put the Bat to shame at the ex-friend now tormenting him. Kaldur's eyes bore back into his lustful and cold.

"W-why are you doing this?" he hissed clenching his fists against the pleasure then the pain as Kaldur's teeth sank into the tender bud.

Suddenly all of it was gone, the hands, the tongue, the warmth all of the pleasure and pain retreated leaving him shivering, panting and grateful. He was trembling; he could feel his entire body shake. He willed his body to still and slowly come down from the sensations his body screamed for. Of all the torture experiences he had ever been through this… this was more frightening than any knife, gun, gas, or crowbar. Not this, anything but this.

Kaldur stood back gazing at the trembling hero. "I know you. Torture doesn't yield any results, no not from you; after all you were trained by Batman, thus have been through every kind of training, survived every kind of beating… some of which I've personally seen you go through. There has to have been something that the Batman never trained you for. This is it isn't it?"

He said nothing, what could he say? Batman had once talked to him about… the possibility of… but had never, would never…

Kaldur stepped toward him once more, he backed away as far as he could but it was pointless, there was nowhere for him to run and he was trapped again easily as the older slid behind him once again locking am arm around his waist.

"N-no matter what you d-do to me I'll never betray my team!" He hissed hating the way his voice stuttered. He took a shuttering breath as he tugged at the cuffs around his wrists. "Not like you."

For a moment Kaldur just stood there seemly unaffected by Nightwings words, then he smiled sadly taking his hand and running it through the soft ebony locks before tightening his grip and harshly wrenching his captives head to the side.

He gasped as he felt Kaldur lean in and lick along the outside of his ear a second before he felt the others arm pull back slightly as Kaldur's other hand slid downward, fingers hooking just under the waistband of his tattered leggings. His breath hitched as he fought to keep from hyperventilating. This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening.

The Atlantians chuckle thundered in his ear as the older mans breath kissed along side his hairline.

"Smile for the camera."


End file.
